


The Snow King

by agent85



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Absolutely ZERO Jemma/Will Romance, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Snow Queen Fusion, Evil Ward Is Evil, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, It's Debatable, Jemma Is a Hero, Magic, Snow and Ice, Will Kind of Is Too, ZERO I Say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale about a demon, a magic mirror, and the adventure that awaits when little Fitz is taken way, and little Jemma risks everything to find him.</p><p>A retelling of <i>The Snow Queen</i> by Hans Christian Andersen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fitz and the Snow King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notapepper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notapepper/gifts).



> (Who probably forgot that she put this idea in my head ages ago.)
> 
> This is a late entry for week three of my [52 short stories in 52 weeks challenge](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/post/136244562327/52-short-stories-in-52-weeks). This week's prompt: a fairy tale retelling.

Now, we are about to begin, and if you wish to hear a story about a very wicked hobgoblin, you must listen very carefully.

He was one of the worst hobgoblins, because he thought he was not a hobgoblin at all, but a very misunderstood man. When a child saw this hobgoblin and started crying, the hobgoblin would tell himself that there must be something wrong with the child. And indeed, there must be something wrong with every child, for they all saw his hairy face and his angry eyes and started weeping on the spot.

This made the hobgoblin so enraged that he decided to make a mirror that would show the world what he believed he truly looked like. But when he tried to enchant a looking glass to make him look tall and handsome, he instead created a mirror that made all good qualities shrink away to nothing, while every flaw and imperfection seemed ten times worse. The most beautiful women reflected in this mirror seemed hideous, and the most impressive landscapes seemed dull and gray. It distorted everything beyond all recognition, and when the hobgoblin saw himself in it, he saw not a man, but a true demon.

And a demon is exactly what he became.

He was so worried that someone would find this mirror and see his reflection in it that he smashed the mirror to a hundred thousand pieces, and a strong wind came and took many of the pieces away. That is when this mirror did more harm than ever.

Some people found some of the large pieces and tried to fashion them into spectacles, but it was not advisable to look at others through these spectacles. Some people got the tiniest grains of glass stuck in their eye, and they became unable to see anything clearly. But the worst thing of all was when a shard of glass found its way to the heart, for it would turn the heart to ice.

And that is exactly what happened to the demon. 

In another part of the country, there lived a small girl named Jemma, and she lived with her parents in a small attic room, where her mother and father made herbal remedies and healed people who were hurt or sick. Jemma was especially good at this, for she could tell which plants were good for which ailments, and how much to apply to get a person back on their feet quickly.

One day, a boy named Fitz moved into the attic room opposite to hers, and she was very pleased to have someone to play with. Little Fitz and his mother had moved from a far away country after his father had died, and many of the other children laughed at him, for they thought his words sounded funny. Little Jemma, however, did not laugh at him, and the two became fast friends.

The roofs between her room and Fitz's room were so close together that they were joined by the rainwater gutter between them, and one only had to step over the gutter to get from one house to the other.

Little Jemma's parents grew all kinds of herbs to be used for medicines: turnips, clovers, and daisies. There were not many who could grow daisies, and little Jemma's parents could only manage to grow them in a little flower bed. After a time, they got the idea to put the flower bed in the rainwater gutter, and during the summer, the children could get to the other side in a single bound. In the winter, however, they had to go all the way down the stairs to the alley, which was often filled with drifts of snow, and all the way back up.

"I know what I'll do," said little Fitz, "I'll build a machine that can carry us over the flowerbeds in the summer. You get too tired going up and down the stairs all the time, and it is too cold out there in the snow."

And so he did. The contraption was a work of genius, for if Fitz could get his mother to turn a little crank, he could sit in a basket that would go up and over the flowerbeds. And Jemma's parents had a crank on their side that did much the same thing.

It was not long before little Fitz and little Jemma were hardly ever without each other. They were always at one house or the other, or they went out and played together, and they never ran out of games to play or things to say to each other.

Fitz was especially fond of the daisies that grew in their little garden (for it seemed as much his as it was hers, he was there so often). He liked to listen as Jemma told him all the ways they could be used. He loved to look at the daisies so much that Jemma's mother taught him a little hymn, and the two sat near the flower boxes and sang it often.

_Daisy, my daisy, when winter has past_

_That is the time when I see you at last_

_You spring up in sunlight, and then I can see_

_The sunshine in you, in the world, and in me_

On warm days, they liked to go out and play by the river, and one one of these days, Fitz slipped and fell in.

"Help!" cried little Fitz, and little Jemma was so distressed that she jumped into the river and pulled him out. But what she didn't know was that there were two shards from that evil mirror lying on the riverbank, and when Jemma pulled him out of the water and threw him on the bank, poor little Fitz got one shard of glass in his eye, and another one straight in his heart.

That was when everything started to change for Fitz, for when he looked around at their little town, he saw only a strange place where his father had never been. And when he looked at the other children, he saw only the way they mocked him.

But it seemed that the mirror did not have the power to distort Jemma in his eyes. So while everyone around her looked ugly and vile, she was pretty and kind. And the difference between Jemma and everything else was so great that to Fitz, it was like looking at an angel.

And that was when little Fitz started to fall in love with little Jemma.

But when he looked at his own reflection in the mirror, he was horrified, for he saw only a small, stupid little boy who had no friends at all. Why, he thought, would an angel ever bother with a silly creature like him? And the more he thought, the colder his heart became.

"I don't like it here," he said one day, "I think I will ask my mother to take us back."

"Back?" cried Jemma, "Why would you want to go there? We grew so many daisies this year, and there will be even more in the spring! You can't miss them!"

"You don't understand," said little Fitz. "You have always been at home, and I am only home when I'm with you."

"Then you should stay by my side, always," said little Jemma. And she was very pleased that she had solved the problem. Besides, she thought to herself, little Fitz _should_ stay with her, for he was so very clever, and he could build contraptions that could bring her herbal remedies to many people. 

But little Fitz didn't think this fixed anything at all.

And that night, he looked at Jemma's home through his window and saw his own reflection in the window pane. A girl as perfect as Jemma, he thought, must want a man, and he could not grow into one, for he had no father to show him how.

So, the next day when Jemma asked him if he wanted to look at snowflakes through their magnifying glass, Fitz told her that he was going to go play with the older boys instead. And off he went, carrying his sledge as ice-cold tears fell down his cheeks.

"Ho there," said a stranger, "how dare you cry when you look at me!"

Little Fitz looked up, and found that the stranger was seated in the biggest sledge he had ever seen, pure white, and its occupant was dressed in white from head to toe.

"I wasn't looking at you," said Fitz, "I was crying because I want to grow up."

"Well," said the stranger, "you must come with me then, for I know everything there is to know about being a man."

And if you think this stranger was the demon, you are right.

But to Fitz, all creature looked like demons, Jemma being the only exception, and he so desperately wanted to win her affection that listened to what the demon had to say.

"You must come to my castle," said the demon, "and you will become master of yourself and the world and get a pair of new skates. For I am the Snow King, and every place covered in snow is my kingdom."

Of course, the demon was not a king, nor had he a kingdom, but Fitz looked at him with a shard of that terrible glass in his eye and thought he must be.

"Come, no man wants to be cold. Wrap yourself in this big fur coat."

But before the Snow King helped Fitz into the coat, he paced two hands on each of little Fitz's shoulders, and oh, it was cold! Colder than ice! And Fitz's heart was already half ice. And for a moment, Fitz thought he would die, but then he did not, and he stopped feeling so much. He forgot all about his mother, and his father, and the daisies. He began to forget everything, as if his mind and heart were freezing over. And by the time he was wrapped in the big, fur coat, he had almost forgotten about Jemma, too.

And little Fitz hopped in the sledge and let the Snow King take him far, far away.


	2. Jemma and the Boy Learned in Magic

Now, I bet you are wondering how little Jemma got on once little Fitz left her. No one knew where he went, and all the other boys could say was that they saw him talking to a creature who looked as wicked as death itself. And when Fitz's mother heard that, she wept, for she supposed that her boy had been taken much in the way her husband had.

But all this time, Jemma listened in silence, and kept her tears secret.

Poor little Jemma. For she thought that Fitz must have been wrong, and this was not her home after all, for it felt desolate without him.

And oh, how bitter and cold were those winter days when little Jemma sat by her window, watching the snow fall and wondering why Fitz could not watch it fall with her.

When spring came, Jemma went out to the river—the very river where she had once saved him.

"Fitz is dead," she told the river.

"I don't believe it," said the newly sprouted grass. 

"He is dead and gone," she said, craning her head upwards to tell the sad news to the swallows.

"It can't be," they answered.

And, somehow, Jemma didn't believe it either.

"If he is alive," she reasoned to the wind and the sunshine, "then I must go find him. For no one else will think to look for him."

So she went out to save her friend a second time.

The river, she thought, seemed to be the best way to find him, for what if he had made a habit of falling in? So she got a boat and drifted downstream, until she was far out of sight of her little village, and when she started to get scared, she sang the hymn that she and Fitz had learned:

_Daisy, my daisy, when winter has past_

_That is the time when I see you at last_

_You spring up in sunlight, and then I can see_

_The sunshine in you, in the world, and in me_

And that cheered her right up.

She went far down the stream, until she had gone farther than she had ever gone, and perhaps farther than anyone had ever gone, for she could not see any people or animals. But the swallows followed after her, and when she got scared again, they twittered around her.

"We are here, we are here, we are here," they sang, and little Jemma dried her tears and kept going down the stream.

She got to a part of the country where large, beautiful trees grew along the riverbank, and she saw lush fields and even cattle. Maybe, she thought, the river was taking her to little Fitz, and perhaps he was in a very nice place where it was warm and he had plenty to eat. 

But he must not be truly happy, she thought, because she was not with him. And he had told her specifically that he couldn't be happy without her, and he wouldn't lie.

Still, the landscape was so beautiful that Jemma felt herself content to stare at it for hours as she drifted past.

Then she felt the air get colder, and she almost thought that the world had skipped summer and fall and gone right back to winter again. For indeed, the tree branches were laden with snow, and the swallows came to snuggle up next to her to get warm. But the chill soon passed, and they found that the river was winding along a garden, with a cottage that had a big thatched roof, and all kinds of fruits and vegetables growing in it. Jemma had never seen such a garden before, and she was so impressed that she didn't know what to think of it, and then she saw more daisies than she had ever imagined could be in one place. 

"Daisies!" she exclaimed to the swallows, "Oh, daisies! I will see if I can gather them up, and maybe I can give them to little Fitz, and he will be so happy to see me!"

But she was so excited that she did not realize how loudly she was calling out, and a big, tall boy came out of the house. He was dirty and in rags, and he stared at her like he was not quite sure what she was.

"How did you get here?" the boy asked her. "What brings you here alone?"

And before she knew it, he waded right into the water and pulled her and the boat out of it.

Jemma was tired of her journey, and happy to be on dry land again. But she was frightened of the boy, who was much older and bigger than she. He was at that age where he seemed almost grown up to little Jemma, but he would have seemed young and foolish to her parents. 

"Come," said he, "you must be hungry. I'll get you something to eat, and you can tell me who you are."

So he got her a big bowl of porridge and she told him the whole story, and asked him if he'd seen little Fitz. The boy told her that he hadn't seen Fitz, but that he expected him soon. And he told her not to be sad, but to taste of the fruit of his many trees, and to see his many flowers, and Jemma thought she had not seen anything so beautiful in her whole life. Then he took her by the hand, lead her into the cottage, and locked the door. Within the cottage there were as many flowers as there were without, for they were painted all over the walls. And in the middle of the cottage, there was a table and a bowl of cherries, and Jemma could have as many as she liked.

But what Jemma didn't know was that the porridge and the cherries had a spell over them, for the boy knew a little magic, and the more she ate, the less she thought about little Fitz.

"I have been here a long time on my own," said the boy, "and I have been waiting for someone like you to keep me company. You shall see how well we will get on together."

Now, he was not a bad boy—he was only very lonely, and he wanted to keep Jemma. So as she ate her cherries, he went into the garden and made the daisies sink down into the earth without so much as a leaf left above ground. The boy was afraid that if Jemma saw the daisies, she would be reminded of Fitz, and leave him alone again. Then he took Jemma back out into the garden, where Jemma played and played all day, and then he let her sleep in a cozy bed, where she dreamed lovely dreams. And when the sun rose, she awoke, and she played in the garden again. Many days passed in this way, for the boy loved to watch her play, and she had forgotten everything but what was laid before her. 

Soon, she had given a name to every petal of every flower in the garden, and had tea parties with them in the afternoons. But as well as she knew them, she thought that there always seemed to be one missing. And Jemma thought that maybe she was not as smart as she had always thought she was, because she could never think of what that missing flower could be.

It was one day when she was inside eating her porridge that she looked once more at the beautiful painted flowers all around her, and the most beautiful of them all was a daisy. The boy had forgotten this when he had charmed all the others away.

"Are there no daisies here?" she asked, and she ran out to the garden and saw there were none, and her heart sank all the way to the ground, for she remembered that she had wanted to see the daisies most of all. And as she mourned the loss of them, hot tears ran down her cheeks, and into the earth. The daisies sprang up to their rightful place, in full bloom and as healthy as when they had been put into the ground.

These daisies reminded her of home, and home reminded her of little Fitz.

"Oh, how much time I have lost!" said she, so ashamed at what she had done that she barely had voice for her words. "I have to find little Fitz! Don't you know where he is? Do you think he is dead and gone?"

The daisies shook their petals at her.

"Fitz is not dead, for our roots go into the ground where the dead people are, and he is not among them." 

"Oh, thank you," she said, and she went to every flower and asked each of them if they knew where Fitz was. The narcissus was no help to her at all, for it only remarked on how pretty it was, and it wasn't until she got to the convolvulus that she learned anything useful.

"Farther down the river, there is an old castle with ivy growing all over it, and there is a woman who stands at the balcony, more lovely than any of us here in the garden. She looks down the road and waits for someone to come."

"Is it Fitz she's waiting for?" asked Jemma. But she thought that it must be.

"That is all I know," said the convolvulus, and it said no more. And none of the other flowers knew anything about Fitz.

But she decided that knowing about the woman in the castle was better than knowing nothing at all, so she gathered up her skirts and prepared to run to her boat. But before she could take a step, a large hand grabbed her by the arm, and she was shocked into silence, for the whole time she had been there, the boy had never once touched her, except on that first day they met.

"Don't go," he pleaded, and she could see his eyes brimming with tears. "There is a terrible curse on this place, for it is always spring in my garden, and always winter in the forest round about. And the winter is so cold that I am sure I will die before I set foot outside the forest. My rags are not enough to keep me warm."

Jemma looked the boy up and down, and she saw how ragged his clothes really were, and she wondered why, in all this time, she hadn't fashioned him something else to wear. 

"Can't your magic melt the frost?" she asked, for she understood now that he had used magic to keep her there.

"No," he said, "my magic only works in the garden. Little Jemma, if you go out there, you will die too, and you will leave me all alone, forever."

Jemma narrowed her gaze at him. "I will not die. I have my boat, and I can sail swiftly down the river. I will catch a current so fast that I will not have time to freeze. You will see. You have done a very bad thing by keeping me here, but I will let you come with me if you promise not to do it again."

The boy withdrew his hand and could not seem to raise his eyes from the soft, rich earth.

"I cannot go with you," he said. "You will have to stay with me."

"I cannot stay with you," said Jemma. "I have to find little Fitz."

And in the end, Jemma filled up a little pack and climbed into her boat alone, leaving the boy behind. She thought that perhaps, once she had found Fitz, she could bring him a warm winter coat, and he could escape this place.

But she also wondered if he had placed a spell on himself, for he seemed to know nothing about his life outside of the garden, or even his own name.

And she sailed down the river, and I will tell you that she did find the castle and the woman.

But as for little Fitz, well, you will have to wait and see.


	3. The Eagle and the Princess

 It was not long before little Jemma got through the frosted forest and out into the wide world, and though she was quite pleased that she had escaped without freezing, she found the landscape quite disheartening. Each tree that dipped its branches over the river dropped brown leaves, and indeed, the stream was full of them, for it was long past summer. Autumn was almost over.

"Oh no," cried Jemma, "I have lost so much time! How can I rest, knowing that little Fitz has waited so long for me to save him?"

She saw a severed tree branch in the water, and almost capsized the boat in attempt to retrieve it. But retrieve it she did, and she used it to row along, making every effort to go faster and faster so she would not waste a second more.

And she was a good ways down the river before she realized that she had been singing the hymn that she and Fitz had learned, and somehow, the autumn chill could not dispel the warmth in her heart. So she sang louder and louder, until an eagle took notice, and came to perch on the end of the boat.

"My, you have a pretty voice," said the eagle, "and I should know, for my sweetheart often steals into the palace to listen to the court musicians. She plays music herself, you know. She plucks at the strings of the instruments when they are left unattended, and she is quite good at it."

"The palace!" exclaimed Jemma, "I am looking for a castle! Is it much the same place? Is there a woman there?"

"Ah," answered the eagle, "not just a woman, but a princess."

"Oh, a princess! And is she waiting for someone? The convovulus said—"

"Why yes, my dear," said the eagle, "but where are you going? And why are you out here in the world alone?"

Jemma understood the word "alone," and it seemed big enough to swallow up the whole world with her in it. So she told the eagle all about her travels, and about Fitz, and she asked the eagle if he knew where Fitz had gone.

The eagle cocked his head to the right, then to the left, and said to her, "I have seen many travelers these past few months, mostly those who have come far and wide to win the hand of the princess. She has turned many away, you know, and she is a very clever. So clever, in fact, that she was bored with her own cleverness. She studied the art of war, and she became a great warrior for her kingdom. But a peace has come over the land, and to pass the time, the princess decided to marry. So she sent out word that if a man could come to her, and not be afraid of her, he could be her prince. Now," said the eagle, "it turns out that there are many who want to be a prince, and they traveled from distant lands for a chance to woo the princess. But they were each in for a surprise, for when they entered the palace, and they stood face to face with her majesty, they were so overcome with her beauty, cleverness, and ferocity that most of them stood still as a statue. Others who came, even if they were well-spoken outside the palace, stumbled over their words like a small child. And after a time, the princess was so distraught over the whole affair that she declared that anyone who came into the palace, and spoke well, and acted as if he was quite at home, would have her hand in marriage. And such a person came."

"Oh," said Jemma, "that must have been little Fitz, for there is no one as clever as he. He can make all kinds of contraptions, and he has a very particular way of speaking that is sure to impress any princess." 

"Well," said the eagle, "that may be. I saw the traveler myself when he came to the palace—he was dirty, for he must have traveled a long way. But I could tell that he was very handsome."

"Now I know it was Fitz," said Jemma. "Did he find favor with the princess?"

"Why, yes he did," answered the eagle. "Instead of freezing or making a fool of himself, the traveler strode right up to the princess as she sat on her throne, gave a bow, and said, 'I can see why this place would bore you into matrimony. I've been here less than five minutes, and I'm bored enough to try it myself. Care to join me?' And the princess was so taken by his boldness that she agreed."

And little Jemma decided that it could be no one else but Fitz, for he was certainly brave enough. But as she realized this, the loneliness in her heart seemed to swell in the most curious way. She knew then that she had to see little Fitz, and the sooner the better. But when she told the eagle of her plans, he was very dismayed.

"You cannot go to the palace," he said, "they have guards posted at every entrance, and they do not take kindly to uninvited guests." And when these words made tears spring to Jemma's eyes, it broke the eagle's heart, and he relented. "All right, all right," he said, "I will ask my sweetheart if she knows her way through the secret passages. She is very cunning, you know. Follow me."

And with that, Jemma rowed her boat to the shore and followed the eagle to the palace on foot. It was not a long journey, for the castle could be seen easily from the river, but the first snowflakes had already started to fall, and little Jemma's shoes had a few holes worn in them. But she went forward, hoping that Fitz would still remember her, and that he would forgive her for taking so long to come and see him. What if he was angry at her? What if he found out about the spell the boy had cast over her, and thought she was still cursed? In the end, though, she decided that she had to see Fitz again, even if he hated her or had forgotten all about her, for she could not rest until she was certain that he was safe.

When they met with the eagle's sweetheart (who, of course, was also an eagle), she cocked her head to one side and smiled. 

"Do not worry, little Jemma," said she, "the guards don't know half of what I know of this palace, and it is late enough that most of them will be asleep, anyway." She winked, and Jemma was positively buzzing with an anticipation that was quickly mixed with fear as they ducked around corners and hid in little crevices as guards passed them by. But Jemma was just small enough, and she was certainly quiet enough, and they were able to make their way to the princess's chamber. And oh! how lovely was the room, for it seemed to be painted in gold, and there were two small beds that came up from the ceiling on golden stems. Each bed was adorned with large petals that made it look like the person laying in it had been swallowed by a flower. One was red like a rose, and in it lay the princess. The other was white like a daisy, and in that one lay the one Jemma had come to seek. Jemma thought it must be Fitz, for who loved daisies more than he? And when she crept up to his bedside and saw his pale neck, she saw it was Fitz all along. How peaceful he looked as he slept in his palace bed! Jemma thought she ought not to disturb him, but in the end, she could not help but call out his name in the darkness, feeling fear mingled with joy as she awaited his response.

But it was not Fitz who woke.

Jemma felt a stir behind her, and she turned to find the princess towering over her, and she was just as fearsome as Jemma had been told. She had a robe red as blood and long, blond hair that streamed downward in curls, and Jemma was so frightened that she trembled before her.

But then the princess smiled, and asked Jemma very sweetly what was the matter, and Jemma heard Fitz waking right behind her.

But this was not Fitz, either.

When he turned his head to blink at her, she did not see the boy she sought. It was merely the prince. Jemma thought he was not quite so handsome as everyone said. Surely, he was nowhere near as handsome as Fitz was.

And then, something strange happened in Jemma's heart, for she was almost glad that Fitz had never found this place, and had never met the princess, though it was very silly to think so. If he was here, she would have found him already.

Jemma was relieved to discover that the princess was as kind as she was fierce, for she asked Jemma what had brought her to the palace at such a late hour, and Jemma told her all about her adventures and Fitz.

"I see," said the princess, "but you cannot continue this journey when the world is covered in snow. You must stay here with me until spring, and you may spend each day in my library and read more books than you ever dreamed of. I have always longed to have a student of my own."

Truly, Jemma was sure that she could not imagine the wealth of knowledge in a possessed by a princess as clever as she, but Jemma held firm. She curtsied and told the princess that she had been parted from Fitz too long already, and she could not delay her journey another day. 

"You poor little thing," said the princess. "Well, if that is the case, I will help you on your way. You will need a new coat, and some boots, and a carriage to take you to Finmark. A woman lives there, who is a greater warrior even than I, and she will help if she knows I have sent you."

"But how do we know that it's where little Jemma needs to go?" said the palace eagle, who had been quiet this whole time.

The princess, of course, was not startled at all, and merely turned to the eagle and asked, "Don't all birds talk to each other? Surely you will be able to find out where little Fitz is by the time Jemma gets there, and you can send word to my mentor. And if you accept me as if I were a bird, and tell me your secrets, I will let you stay in the palace and eat all the bread you like."

Both the eagle and Jemma quickly agreed that the princess was indeed very clever, and by the time the sun rose that morning, Jemma was dressed from head to toe in new clothes, and sent off into the wide word to continue her journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading! I'm hoping I'll have the next chapter up sometime next week. We've got a robber girl, a reindeer, and a sauna coming up, so stay tuned!


	4. The Robber Girl and the Reindeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! IT'S A POST-CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!! I hope you'll forgive me for taking so long to update this, but I couldn't let this season go by without making an effort. Enjoy!

Now, the princess did not let Jemma go out alone, but instead offered her a chariot of pure gold. It was drawn by two white horses, and she had a footman and coachmen to keep her company, and nice boots and a muff to keep her warm. The eagle and his sweetheart went as well, following her for a few miles before they grew tired, bid their goodbyes, and flew home. It was hard for Jemma to part with them, for they had become fast friends, but the eagle from the woods told her that all the birds in the forest would keep watch over her, and they would alert him if she found herself in any trouble. 

The chariot went on its way, sparkling like a star, and Jemma was sure that they would soon find the teacher the princess had told her about, and the teacher would know where Fitz was, and she would find Fitz in no time at all. But what she did not know was that there were robbers in the forests they rode through, and the robbers were blinded by the glare of the chariot. They blinked through their tears and saw that it was indeed made of gold and, being robbers, decided to steal it.

They attacked the chariot with swiftness, and soon they seized the horses, killed the footman and coachmen, and dragged Jemma out into the cold night. She buried herself into her coat, afraid, and she was soon set before an old robber woman, whose face was covered in scars like it had been hastily stitched together.

"She is fat," said the robber woman, "and she is pretty, too. I will steal her beauty and her life, just as my beauty and vitality were once taken from me."

Jemma was too scared to even breathe, for the woman had a withering glare and a very wicked smile. Her husband, who seemed small in comparison, stood by his wife's side and nodded.

"You will have whatever you wish, my dear," said he, and little Jemma thought she saw a madness in his eyes. But just as Jemma was sure they were going to grab her by her braid and throw her into a stew, the robber woman yelped in pain.

"Oh!" she cried, and then she turned to find her daughter, who had stomped on her foot. The robber girl jumped on her mother's back, wild and savage as any beast in the forest. Her father watched with an affectionate smile.

"Skye! You bad, wicked child!" said the mother to the robber girl, and the woman was so angry that she forgot all about killing little Jemma.

"She will play with me," said the robber girl, "and she will give me her fine clothes and make me nice food to eat. She will sleep in my bed, and if she ever bores me, I will tickle her with my knife so that she will fear me."

Jemma did not like this proposal at all, but she did not have any say in the matter. The little robber girl's father made sure she had anything and everything she wanted.

Now, the robbers were about to take the chariot and hack it to bits so they could melt it down, but the little robber girl wanted that, too. So she and Jemma were put into it, and off they drove deeper and deeper into the wood. The robber girl was as big as Jemma, with dark hair and eyes that held secrets.

"There," she said, pulling an arm around Jemma's waist, "they shan't kill you, so long as you are with me. No one will." She gave Jemma a smile, and was quite pleased with herself. "Oh, and don't worry about my knife. My parents want me to be as wicked as they are, and they would not have let me take you away if I had done otherwise."

Then the robber girl narrowed her eyes at her, and she looked little Jemma up and down. "I know who you are," she said. "You are the princess who lives in the castle yonder. I will help you escape, but you must take me with you, and let me live in your palace."

Jemma would have laughed if it were not very rude to do so, for she thought that no one could ever mistake her for someone so strong. But instead, Jemma told the robber girl her whole story, and how she was looking for little Fitz, and how much she needed to find him. The robber girl gave her a nod, and she dried Jemma's eyes.

The chariot arrived at the robber's hideout, which was not much more than an overgrown shack with tents all around it. The shack had large cracks in the walls, with ravens and sparrows flying in and out, which made Jemma feel quite safe. Surely, if there was any trouble, she need only to alert the birds for help to come. Inside, she found a large table with food scattered about on it, and a great big fire in the middle that sent tendrils of smoke up to the roof.

"Don't worry," said the little robber girl, "I will take good care of you. You will eat your fill of stew and rabbits, and then you will sleep with my pets."

When Jemma could not take another bite, the robber girl took Jemma by the hand and lead her to a far corner, where there must have been a hundred pigeons roosting.

"My parents intend to raise me up to be like the sky," she said. "Everywhere at once. All powerful. Dangerous. I am to be calm one minute, and a tempest the next. It is very tiring."

"You do not wish to be the sky," said Jemma, who was worn out by the whole ordeal herself. She had to stifle a yawn, which proved catching, for the robber girl yawned, too.

"No, I do not. I do not wish to be a thief at all." 

Jemma could tell that there was truth in these words, for they leaked out of the corners of the robber girl's eyes and dripped down her dirty cheeks. Jemma tried to dry the girl's eyes, but it was no use. The girl started sobbing. So Jemma wrapped the robber girl up in her arms and sang her Fitz's hymn as a lullaby.

_Daisy, my daisy, when winter has past_

_That is the time when I see you at last_

_You spring up in sunlight, and then I can see_

_The sunshine in you, in the world, and in me_

And Jemma sang it quietly and gently until the crying stopped, and the robber girl let out a shaky breath.

"A daisy," she said as she unwrapped herself from Jemma's arms. "It would be nice to be a daisy." 

"It is not bad to be the sky, either," Jemma assured her. "The sky is whatever it wishes to be. And so shall you be. I will see to it."

The robber girl offered Jemma a smile, rubbing the last tears from her eyes.

"That is what Mack says to me. Would you like to meet him?"

Before Jemma could think to answer, the robber girl scrambled to her feet and ran off. She returned a moment later with a large reindeer, who had a bright copper ring around his neck. 

"My parents say that we must keep him close," said the robber girl, "lest he escape in the night. But he is too good to leave me here alone. Now, tell him what you said before, about little Fitz and why you came out into world."

Jemma told the whole story again, and the ravens cooed up in their roosts above. Jemma wondered if they had already heard it all from the eagle. The reindeer listened attentively, asking questions where questions were needed, and when Jemma finished, she found that the robber girl was fast asleep.

Jemma found that she had questions for the reindeer, about his life and how he came to be there with the robbers. But as she opened her mouth, the robber girl's father and mother came in the door, and the reindeer paled. Jemma looked around and saw the sleeping robber girl, her quarreling parents, and the quiet reindeer, and felt very alone until she thought to look up and see the two sparrows who remained awake above her.

"Coo coo," they said, "we have seen little Fitz. His sledge was drawn by a white horse, and he was sitting with goblin that calls himself the Snow King. He drove by us as we sat in our nests, and he blew upon our young ones and froze all except we two, coo coo."

"What are you saying up there?" asked Jemma, "where was the Snow King going? Do you know anything about it?"

"He is most likely going up to Lapland, for there is always snow and ice there. The reindeer can tell you how it is." 

"There is ice and snow," he said, "and it's a very nice place. You can run and jump where you like, or you can keep to yourself, and no one will bother you. It's nice enough that even a goblin like the Snow King can look around at it's beauty and find a small sliver of peace. He is on the island, which is called Spitsbergen."

"Oh Fitz, little Fitz," sighed Jemma.

In the morning, she told the robber girl all that she had learned from the sparrows and the reindeer. The little robber girl looked quite solemn, but she nodded her head and said, "I see now that Mack will have to leave me after all. He will have to go to Lapland with you."

"No," said the reindeer. "If I do, you will be left here alone."

"But Jemma is going out in the world alone, and you know where she is going."

The reindeer looked at the robber girl, then at Jemma, and relented. "Who knows better than I? I was born and brought up there."

"Listen," said the robber girl, "you see that all our menfolk are away. That leaves only my mother to deal with, and I am more than a match for her. I will give her some wine, and she will take a nap. Then, you can make your escape."

The robber girl jumped out of bed and did exactly as she had promised. When her mother had had her draft from the bottle, and drifted into sleep, the little robber girl came over to the reindeer and said, "I have had the greatest pleasure having you here as my friend. I will hate to see you go."

"And I," said the reindeer.

And she took off his halter and his copper ring and sent him off, giving him strict instructions to stay with Jemma until she found Fitz. As for Jemma, the robber girl made sure she had the warm, fur boots and muff given to her by the princess.

"You shan't be cold," she said, "no matter what the Snow King has to say about it."

And she gave Jemma two loaves and a ham, and told Jemma not to cry as she sent them out into the wide, wild world.

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


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